


Narcotic

by dark_spark



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Also he's a little shit, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Heartbreak, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert, Songfic, based on narcotic by liquido, genderneutral reader!, i guess, jim is just soooo changeable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_spark/pseuds/dark_spark
Summary: Moriarty leaves for a business trip. How does he say his goodbyes and how does that make you feel? Read to find out more!(I swear it's a good fic - give me a chance)Inspired by Narctic by Liquido





	Narcotic

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if Moriarty is ooc, this is the first time I ever wrote him.  
> Also, my obsession with him is getting out of hand, send help...

Will you still recall my name

And the month it all began

Will you release me with a kiss

 

Jim was standing before you with a wide grin. Suited up and with gelled back hair he was ready for his business trip. You weren't sure what it was, he had just rambled something about a great scheme when you had asked where he was going.

 

You didn't want him to go, it would mean being on your own for the first time since you had met him, but there was no other way. This moment, this heartbreak was inevitable – if only momentarily. At least that was what you hoped.

So when Jim spoke a few reassuring words that sounded as if they were quoted from some old forgotten song – something along the lines of "I hate to leave you bare" – you faced it with a smile, knowing that he didn't like to see you sad.

 

But as always, Jim saw through you with ease. Him asking what was wrong was only polite conversation at this point – he could guess, no, he _knew_ each and every one of your thoughts without you having to express a single one. You never really knew if you liked that fact, although now you were sure that you did not.

 

You tried putting it into words for him. Tried making it clear that you just wanted him to leave so he could hurry and come back, but nothing more than a strangled "I-" escaped before your body seized up and your lungs refused to do their job. What came over you at that moment was unclear, but something triggered panic and anxiety-inducing thoughts to shoot through your head like asteroids – burning hot and destructive.

Thoughts including

"What if he doesn't come back because something happens?"

And

"What if he comes back and something has happened to me?"

But worst of all,

"What if he doesn't come back because he doesn't _want_ to come back?"

 

Your racing mind was stopped by two arms wrapping themselves around you.

 

Jim's calm voice next to your ear significantly helped you calm down.

 

"Kitten," he cooed, "there is no need cry, for a trifle's more than this."

Oh? Had you been crying? You didn't notice but a simple touch of the cheek confirmed it.

You didn't have much time to think about it for Jim already pulled the embrace apart to lightly stroked your cheek. The gesture was small but intimate. It made you feel safe and loved.

 

"If you need me, I'll be there." A simple promise, no bad intentions behind it, and yet, it set off a shrill alarm as nothing had before. (Well, maybe when you first met him and he had tied a bomb to your chest. That was pretty alarming.)

Jim might be able to read you like an open book but over the years you had learned to tell when he lied, and this was one of these moments.

Queasiness bloated your stomach and caused your lips to twist, but for once you were determined to not let Jim notice. If he was holding back some truths, then it was justifiable for you to keep this one secret. The secret was that right now, you didn't trust him.

 

So when he looked you over with those big doe-eyes of his and pecked a quick kiss to your lips, you made sure to gun down each butterfly individually. Something was wrong and you didn't want some insects fluttering about in your stomach clouding your judgment.

 

Something about his next word left you cold. They were sweet but careless, spoken with his usual honey-sweet tone but his eyes adapted a reptilian-like emptiness that he only had when he faced victims. Shit. That definitely didn't mean anything good.

 

"You're such a pretty one." It almost fell like a sigh from his lips, as if he didn't know if he should be happy or sad. Maybe he was both. You couldn't tell.

 

But unease made itself present when even his last bit of friendliness dropped, and his face resembled nothing but a blank slate. His hand that buried itself in your hair wasn't delicate either as he roughly pulled you closer.

 

"Don't you ever let me down."

 

With that, he turned his back and walked out the door. Like a lost puppy, you followed him. Even if his mood swings set you off, you would at least wave your goodbyes. But it was futile, absolutely unnecessary that you accompanied him to the door, for he didn't turn to look at you. Not as he walked down the stairs and not as he got into the car. Not a single glance was thrown your way. That caused a quickly growing numbness to spread through your body. A cold feeling similar to ice.

 

Loneliness or abandonment perhaps?

 

Whatever it was, it only seemed to confirm your fears – everything your gut, your mind and your deductions seemed to be telling you all along – that he wouldn't be coming back.

 

So why you let him go you didn't quite know.

 

I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

**Author's Note:**

> comment feedback!!!!! pls!!!!!!!!!! desperate gurl here!!!!!


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